


The Scars

by Krethes



Series: The Corruption of Moony [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas Holidays, Horny Teenagers, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Never change, New Relationship, Sirius is still a bit of a creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29352285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krethes/pseuds/Krethes
Summary: "He wanted to remove every memory of pain and reminder of agony with new ones of rapture and of pleasure and of him..."Sirius and Remus spend the Christmas Holidays together at Hogwarts.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: The Corruption of Moony [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154549
Kudos: 51





	The Scars

**Author's Note:**

> When in Sirius's POV, I usually write “Moony” when it’s Sirius’s musings or contemplations, and “Remus” when it’s more narrative. Hope it’s not too jarring! This takes place after ‘Frozen Morning in Waning Gibbous’, if you’d like to take a peek, and before ‘The Shirt’. 
> 
> CW: Use of the word "queer" in a non-derogatory way.

They laid tangled up together, pale limbs looped around tan ones, raven’s wing black hair blended with tawny brown, strewn across a scarlet-cased pillow. They were lit only by the pale light of the waxing gibbous moon streaming through the window in their dormitory (Moony always needed to see it for himself, this close to a full moon and who was Sirius to deny him?), and the only sound was their shared breathing. It was perfect.

Feeling terribly like a lovestruck  _ girl _ , Sirius buried his nose into Remus’s neck with a happy sigh, and held his boyfriend a little tighter. This was still new, lying together skin-to-skin. The stuff they’d just  _ done _ was new, too, and fresh memories of how Moony looked with his back arching had Sirius’s body going down (or  _ up _ ) a different train of thought. He pushed it aside, for now, (he’d circle back) and contented himself to be in the moment. 

They didn’t usually get time like this together, but it was the Christmas holidays and James and Peter had gone to their respective homes. Sirius’s parents just flat-out didn’t  _ want _ him home and Moony’s had gone to France or something for what Moony described as “what old people do when they want to feel connected again”. Without his parents, Moony had definitely  _ not _ been allowed to return to his seaside home in Dover, so Sirius begged off accompanying the Potters to Australia under the very convincing argument that he couldn’t very well leave their sweet Moony  _ alone _ at Christmas and the full moon, now could he?

The past week found Sirius happier than he’d ever been in his entire life. More than when he’d gotten his first broomstick. More than when he’d “accidentally” jinxed Regulus’s hair clean off with a sneeze when he was eight. More than when he’d had his first kiss. It all paled in comparison to the joy he felt with Moony. They’d finally “done it”, which was a very sixteen-year-old way to refer to “ _ IT” _ , and Sirius was seventeen now so he supposed he should start calling it by its proper name. But ‘shagging’ seemed to cheapen their relationship and ‘love making’ made Sirius want to hurl. 

But they’d had one week so far to perfect their technique, and a week to go to really nail it down before they had to be covert about it all. Sirius could live with that -- nothing was too arduous of a task when it came to Pleasing his Moony. If they had to sneak around the school like criminals (because okay, it wasn’t  _ technically _ legal at all, actually since they were so young still) to be together, they would. It wasn’t all that different from pulling pranks, except it was just the two of them.  _ ‘About the same amount of stickiness, though,’ _ Sirius mused.

He heard Remus’s breathing deepen and looked over to see his eyes closed, his mouth slightly parted as he slept. A warmth settled in Sirus’s chest -- Moony didn’t just fall asleep  _ anywhere _ , not if he wasn’t fresh from a full moon. No matter how knackered he was, Sirius knew he was much too alert, too  _ aware _ of his surroundings to just fall asleep. He knew that when the four of them were together in the dormitory that Moony was the last to drift off (he’d tried to beat him once in fourth year, but that only resulted in the both of them pulling all-nighters and being miserable gits for the week without sleep, and Sirius conceded defeat). So here, now, seeing Moony slide into sleep still encircled by Sirius’s arms and legs made him feel Very Important indeed. 

Sirius, as he always did whenever presented the chance, traced the scarred lines on Remus’s chest with his fingertips. They didn’t look so macabre in their moonsilver-washed room, practically invisible, but Sirius knew the pathways of these chest ones by muscle memory. He followed a jagged one (Moony’d gotten it in the fourth moon of their fourth year, Sirius remembered) from Moony’s right collarbone diagonal to his sternum and then back to his right hip where his fingers curled around and stroked the soft skin covering jutting bone. 

Moony’s Biggest (scar, that was) was on the hip opposite and Sirius had respected his wishes not to obsess over it like he did the others. He wanted Very Badly to explore it and learn its textures, but Moony had his reasons. It was his original bitemark, after all, and Sirius had learned ages ago (after lots of learning hard and painful lessons) that because  _ he _ wasn’t a werewolf, he couldn’t understand. And that was just fine. 

He pressed tender, gentle kisses to Remus’s slightly-salty temple, inhaling his smell. He’d picked up on the subtle nuances as Padfoot, and while they were not nearly as strong with his dumb human nose, now that he knew what to “look” for, it was easy enough to find. If he had to describe it, he would say Moony smelled like crisp new parchment, a not-unpleasant sweat, and leaves. Outloud, it didn’t sound very appealing, but Sirius was positive that’s what his Amortentia potion would smell like if he brewed one tomorrow.

Remus was still asleep, and Sirius, emboldened by this, continued his tracing. He couldn’t reach the end of this one (Moony was ever-so-lanky and, Sirius had said on more than one occasion, unfairly gifted with the blessing of height), but it started at the peak of his sartorius muscle and curled around the back of his leg, behind his knee, and down to his calf. This one was old, perfectly smooth and no longer puffy, a slick pathway down Moony’s leg. Sirius had just reached the turn from the front of Remus’s thigh that curved to his hamstring when he found himself fixed by glowing amber eyes.

“Padfoot.”

Sirius mused that he was  _ always _ getting told off that way, with just his name, and that it didn’t  _ really _ work, just served to make him a little  _ hot _ . Especially as of late, since anything Moony said that began that way usually ended up in him moaning his name. He wrestled down the bubbling excitement that threatened to explode in a smirk on his face and instead crafted his ‘Genuine Innocence, I’ve Not Done Anything Wrong’ grin, the very ends of his lips quirking up rather becomingly, if he did say so himself (and he did). 

“Oh, did I wake you?” he replied sweetly, voice hushed, fighting back laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. Why were they whispering? His fingers slid back and forth on the scar at the knee as if it were a perfectly normal idle habit.

He watched as Moony rolled his eyes, but when they came back to him they were heated, but in the way Sirius lived for these days. He would move heaven and earth to see That Look on Moony’s face any day (preferably upwards of five times daily) and he felt himself getting hard again, despite having just emptied himself into the warm, tan body less than a half-hour ago. 

“It’s a bit…  _ queer _ , you know,” Moony murmured as he he spun in Sirius’s arms to face him. Their half-hard cocks brushed as he did so and Sirius hoped Moony’s breathing hitched like his did.

“Um, Moony,” he began, brows raised. “ _ This _ ,” he gestured to them, naked as the day they were born (minus his silver spoon, of course) and burning for each other, “is a  _ lot _ queer.” 

Moony laughed his breathy, ‘you’re an idiot but you’re not wrong’ laugh that Sirius loved to hear and Sirius drank it in, music to his ears. “Well yes. I meant what you do when I’m sleeping,” he corrected, and Sirius scoffed. 

“You’re my boyfriend, I’m allowed to  _ look _ ,” Sirius insisted, and grabbed the other boy’s knee in an actual grip instead of a breathy glide. He hoisted Remus’s leg up over his hip so that they fit together better and more important bits of skin touching. He felt no resistance, rewarded for his boldness with a mind-melting kiss. 

“I  _ meant _ ,” Moony continued in his ‘You’re an Idiot and You’re Not Listening to Me’ voice, which Sirius was not as fond of. “Touching me. My scars. It’s weird.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” Always best to ask with Moony. Asking was the Way to Go, especially once he realized that his own Amazing Ideas and Grand Plans (“delusions”, Moony’d had the nerve to call them) often caused him to misinterpret situations. 

Moony draped his arms over his shoulders and pulled him close. “Mm… maybe when I’m sleeping. I’m ticklish, you know. But you,” he said, kissing Sirius again and doing that  _ thing _ with his tongue that made Sirius all-too-aware of his definitely-hard cock that pressed against Moony’s hip. “Can do whatever you want when I’m awake.” Moony thrust against him with a pressing, hot  _ need _ and Sirius almost forgot how to talk. 

“Whatever?” Sirius confirmed, brows nearly shot up into his hairline. My my, his Moony was getting bold.

“If… if you want.” Ah, there was the shy Moony he’d come to expect. He didn’t pull away, but his maddening eyes had lost an ounce of their heat, replaced by a fraction of the guard wall that Sirius had spent six years sledgehammering down. 

Well that just wouldn’t  _ do _ . 

Sirius enthusiastically wrapped both his arms around Moony’s waist and rolled so that he was on top of him, a maneuver, he knew, was only possible because Moony  _ wanted _ it. This close to the full moon, Moony’s strength was endless and he didn’t do anything he didn’t want to do. Sirius looked at him, at his slightly-shocked golden eyes, framed by those heavy lashes, and felt like his heart might burst. His cock definitely would, he reasoned, and abandoned all thoughts of declarations of love for the matter at hand. 

He crashed his lips against Remus’s, plunging his tongue into his waiting, warm mouth, and almost down his throat. He grabbed his knees and pushed his long legs up, up, up, until his knees rested at his ears. Moony was making such sweet, soft moans that it almost didn’t seem  _ fair _ to indulge one more time, but he’d said he  _ could _ . 

Sirius broke away from Moony’s mouth, a string of saliva connecting them for a half moment, before he latched onto a smaller bite-shaped scar on his shoulder, right at the trapezius. He bit down just a little and felt his body hum in anticipation as Moony squirmed below him, gasping, moaning. Hot hands scrambled at his back and he bit just a little harder, sucking firmly at the pliant flesh. When he was satisfied his artwork had set, he pulled away to see the skin turning red, then a bit purple. 

He wanted to do  _ more _ , to replace every scar on Moony’s too-skinny-but-somehow-just-right body with his own marks. He wanted to remove every memory of pain and reminder of agony with new ones of rapture and of pleasure and of  _ him _ . But Moony, apparently more than just a little turned on by this turn of events, was squirming below him, his neglected cock bouncing against his stomach. 

“Fuck, Moony,” he breathed. He hadn’t seen this side of his Moony before -- he’d been horny before, sure, and needy in that regard, but this was true desperation, a frantic demand. It felt good to see him come undone like this and to know he was the cause. 

“Padfoot  _ please _ ,” came the plea, the last syllable breaking into a keening whine. 

Sirius didn’t even think to reach for his wand for the lubrication spell and when he felt his cock slide past that first tight ring of muscle, he froze for a moment, worried he would hurt him. Moony apparently was  _ not _ having that, and wrapped his legs around Sirius’s waist and pulled him in. 

Remus was so tight, his warmer body like a furnace as it welcomed him in greedily, inch by inch sinking in. Sirius felt a slickness that, he realized with a red-hot jolt of arousal, was his cum from earlier, still coating Moony’s insides. 

It was like a switch was flipped and he was a man possessed with the sole objective of melting them together. They weren’t very  _ good _ at this, this whole actual-sex-and-not-just-wanking thing, but it was  _ very good _ nonetheless. Sirius was learning rapidly what Moony liked, how he liked it, and when he liked it, and Moony was a perfect partner, accepting everything Sirius had to give him and making those noises --  _ Merlin _ , the sounds! Sirius knew they’d have to start using silencing spells when their mates returned to Hogwarts, but for now he savored every gasp and moan and pleasured sob his boyfriend made as he fucked him into the mattress for the fourth time that day.

He found that “oh god,  _ yes Sirius, please” _ spot faster this time, and angled so that he struck it with each thrust, making sure to keep the pressure and pace consistent. Moony had melted under him and was a shaking, noisy mess clinging to him for dear life, his cock weeping precum between them, untouched but on the verge of release nonetheless as each stroke of Sirius’s cock hit his prostate, unrelenting.

Moony arched his lovely spine off of the bed below him, rutting against Sirius’s stomach when he could. His eyes were starting to flutter shut and Sirius knew he was close, could see him losing himself.

“Moony look at me, look at me, look at me,” Sirius said between thrusts, needing to see  _ those eyes _ looking at him. His darling, debauched Moony finally opened his eyes and Sirius came almost immediately, refilling his tight hole with his cum. He’d spent months dreaming of those eyes and even now after having Moony as  _ his _ , and getting to see them like this, they still had such a hold on him. 

He felt guilty for just a heartbeat, for finishing before him, but two rapid strokes on Moony’s too-hot, too-hard dick had him tumbling over the edge with him with a, “Sirius!” that rang in his ears.

Exhausted and shoulders aching from where Remus’s fingers had dug in, Sirius collapsed against the bony body below him, not minding the soft squelch of Moony’s cum against their stomachs. His nose immediately found the crook of his neck again and he inhaled deeply, not caring how  _ queer _ it was. 

Moony’s fingers wound their way into his curls and Sirius leaned into the sensation, feeling ridiculously, stupidly,  _ happy _ . Moony had settled into his usual quietness, his raucous alter ego sated again, and again they fell into the easy rhythm of just  _ being _ together. 

It was so easy, with Moony.


End file.
